country, I came over not long since, and sought the city of Boston, it being, as many had told me, the great center of America’s learning and refinement.  There I gave a lecture or two; but being a stranger, and deformed withal, the reception I met was cold and discouraging.  Against such men as Lowell, and Curtis, men born on the soil, and of such goodly person as made them the pets of the petticoats and pantaletts, I could not hope to succeed.  In truth, I gave up, sick at heart, clean only in pocket, and with the alternative of a garret and a crust staring me in the face, in a land of plenty.  At length a friendly hand came to my succor, and through it I was invited by a committee, composed of the tavern keeper, the schoolmaster, the Unitarian clergyman, and the milkman, (who had a relish for letters,) to deliver three lectures in this town, for which they promised to pay me five dollars a lecture, and my victuals.  Yes, sir, my victuals.  Five dollars and victuals for a learned lecture was something for a man whose pocket stood much in need of replenishing.  I came, disposed to do to the best of my ability; and the victuals I have had, and they are good.  I chose Crabbe for the subject of my lecture, in deference to my own taste, and also because I was led to believe, judging from analogy, that the knowledge of men of letters which ruled in Boston, must also rule in the villages and towns round about.  It was that which led me to announce Crabbe, which announcement has much disturbed the town.  No one seems to know who or what manner of man he was, and many curious questions have been put to me concerning his origin, the things he did while living, the manner of his death, and what was said of him afterwards.  Several inquisitive old ladies, who called to see me to-day, put many questions concerning his morals and religion.  Not entertaining a doubt of his loving all religion that was founded in truth and reason, I sent them away fully satisfied that Mr. Crabbe was a man of good standing in the church.  You will remember sir, it was Crabbe who said, ’There sits he upright in his seat secure, As one whose conscience is correct and pure.’”

Here he continued to repeat several of the most beautiful lines written by that poet, and which are familiar to his readers.

“An unhappy sort of man, clothed in the garb of a mechanic, and calling himself a nonresistant, has several times called to inquire if Mr. Crabbe, of whom I proposed to speak, was an advocate of physical resistance.  Not being able to satisfy him upon this point, he has sought in divers ways to pick a quarrel with me.”  Just at this moment the door opened, and there entered to the evident annoyance of the little deformed man, one Ephraim Flagg, a clicker of shoes, and an ex-stagedriver.  He was lean and low of figure, had a long bony face, and a gloomy expression of countenance, and a straight, narrow forehead, and coarse, silvery hair, that stood erect upon his head.  “I have come again, you see;